


another time

by blackbluewoo



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, M/M, Short n sweet, a belated merry christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 16:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbluewoo/pseuds/blackbluewoo
Summary: Six months of no sleep and thirty four performances of the same songs leaves Junhee tired.





	another time

**Author's Note:**

> a late merry christmas/happy holidays! i  
> this was not wht i originally wanted to publish for christmas but! here it is anyways LOL  
> i hope u enjoy it <3

Six months of no sleep and thirty four performances of the same songs leaves Junhee  _ tired.  _ The type of tired that sifts through your bones and the lining of your lungs like too-heady cologne, the type of tired that makes itself known in bruised eyes and worn out voices.

 

It’s Christmas. It’s snowing outside. The bed beneath him is warm and forgiving, and Junhee lets his bones sink into it and groans softly as he feels his muscles give out. 

 

His hair is still wet. Inconvenient, but not jarring. 

 

Donghun is beside him, gently running his fingers through his hair. His fingers scratch at Junhee’s scalp, slightly roughened pads of soft fingers massaging through damp hair. His voice sounds distant, airy, and Junhee can see him through slightly parted eyes.

 

Junhee doesn’t understand how he isn’t tired. It’s impossible not to be, with their relentless schedule of dancing and singing, yet through his hoarse throat Donghun speaks to him,  _ quiet, soft _ , lets his voice drift through the air and carry no significance.  

 

“We should go out,” Donghun mumbles.

 

Junhee sighs and closes his eyes tighter. He hears Donghun’s laugh, rich, dripping with honey and chocolate, warm and crackly from the centre of his chest. He’s tired, too. Awake for Junhee. It only makes him feel warmer.

 

“Hmm,” Junhee mumbles, and cracks open an eyelid.

 

Donghun is smiling. His fingers twirl around free strands of Junhee’s hair, pick apart small knots and run smooth against his scalp. Soft. Junhee wants to drown in it.

 

“We can do it another time,” he protests, melting into Donghun’s touch.

 

“Another time,” Donghun mocks, no irritation in his voice. “When is  _ another time _ , Park Junhee?” 

 

“When I’m not tired.”

 

Another laugh. It’s a feeling Junhee struggles to articulate. Like static heat that bubbles in the centre of his chest, flavours his mouth with it’s sweetness.

 

“Do you think you won’t be tired anytime soon?” Donghun questions again, playful, still smiling, still looking down at Junhee with an insurmountable warmth in his eyes. 

 

It’s a light question, Junhee knows. Just Donghun being playful, poking holes in things he says for fun, but the brief mention of more work in the future makes Junhee want to sink into an abyss of memory foam and never emerge. 

 

“In another life, hyung,” Junhee chuckles, voice coming out raspy and low. 

 

Donghun’s hand drops from his hair to cup Junhee’s face. Cautious. To not wake him up too much. Junhee knows Donghun too well, could write his every expression down in a book and label them all.

 

“You won’t be with me in another life. You wouldn’t have met me.” 

 

Junhee places a hand on top of Donghun’s, pulls it closer to his skin and leans into the touch. His features crease from a smile into something gentler around the eyes. 

 

“I’ll always find you.”

 

Silence, filled by the faint whir of the radiator. 

 

“Cheesy.”

 

“I was trying to be cute.”

 

“It didn’t work.”

 

Junhee feels like this moment could spill on forever, into a thousand eons. Donghun’s hand on his face and the mattress beneath him and the buzz of exhaustion in his ears. Everything is too-warm and too-soft and just the right amount of comforting to lull Junhee to sleep where he lays.

 

“In another life,” Donghun begins, small smile on his face. “How would we meet?”

 

“Does it matter?” Junhee says, sleepy. “ I’d find you, hyung, I’d break into your house and proclaim my love for you.”

 

“You’re weird.”

 

Junhee smiles.

 

“You love me.”

 

Donghun purses his lips a little, as if in thought, and bites back a laugh when Junhee groans at him.

 

“In another life, I’d take you on so many dates you’d get sick of me,” Junhee chuckles, wholehearted, watches Donghun smile fondly down at him.

 

“Twice a week is your limit.”

 

“Okay, twice a week. I’d take you to fancy restaurants. I’d lay down my coat across puddles for you. I’d tell the restaurant it was your birthday every time we went so we get free cake.”

 

“Jun, people only have one birthday a year.”

 

“Maybe you have a sad backstory, in this life. Lots of adopted birthdays.”

 

Donghun laughs at that, full and rich, removes his hand from Junhee’s cheek and leans down on the bed properly, elbow folding so he can lay down. He’s inches away, wide smile and glint in his eyes from the light above.

 

“I’d propose to you,” Donghun plays along.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. I’d take you back to LA. I’d propose on the beach.”

 

Suddenly Junhee is brought back to not so many weeks ago, past the blur of days amongst the constant heavy pace of their tour. He remembers- one of the only distinguishable days- the beach in LA, in winter, all of them with their sweaters and their sandy socks. Junhee thinks back to sitting on the small platform not too far in, watching Donghun tread carefully with sneakers pinched between two fingers and phone in the other. Thinks about the pale sun and the thundering wind.

 

He thinks about summer there. Sand in his toes and sun in the sky. Donghun on one knee with a ring, face half cast in shadow from beach umbrellas.

 

The thought makes Junhee feel kind of sad, kind of bitter, but he doesn’t mention it.

 

“I would say no.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s too early, hyung. You have to show me you love me.”

 

Donghun pauses for a moment, rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.

 

“I’ll write you a song,” he concludes. “And I’ll sing it to you on the beach. Would you still say no?” 

 

Donghun is close to him, so close to him, smiling with his hair falling into his half shut eyes and Junhee has never felt sadder.

 

“I would say yes,” he says, quiet.

 

“Then we’d get married,” Donghun whispers, reaching forward for Junhee’s hand. “Christmas wedding.”

 

The wind whips against the window outside, and Junhee can see the coating of ice on everything for miles.

 

“In the snow.” 

 

“Right,” Donghun affirms, squeezing his hand tighter. “Tuxedos and cake and lots of Christmas decorations. We can cut a gingerbread cake. I’d make you wear a reindeer headband.”

 

“I’d make you wear a stupid red nose,” Junhee giggles, hitting Donghun’s chest halfheartedly. 

 

“How would I kiss you, then?” 

 

Junhee lets himself think it for a second. Looking at Donghun and imagining him in a black tuxedo with neatly waxed hair and the same smile. His heart almost hurts.

 

“Fine. You can wear a santa hat. Look like  more of a dumbass at our wedding.”

 

Donghun chuckles, quiet, runs his thumb lightly over Junhee’s knuckles. 

 

“Our kids would be so embarrassed.”

 

The thought of kids, kids with  _ Donghun,  _ raising kids and taking them to school and watching them grow up makes Junhee feel  _ weird _ . There are no words apart from  _ strange _ to describe the sensation he feels, with Donghun’s eyes on him, talking about kids. Their kids. 

 

Only in another life.

 

“How many children would we have?”

 

“Mm,” Donghun hums in thought. “Two? One girl and one boy.”

 

_ God. _

 

“You wouldn’t be able to manage kids.”

 

“What does that mean?” Donghun says, indignant. 

 

“We’d send them off to preschool and you’d  _ cry. _ ”

 

“You’d cry too, Junhee. They grow up so fast.” Donghun laughs, wiping away fake tears. 

 

The thought blooms on his tongue and wilts in his throat, chokes Junhee on it’s own petals, images of children running across concrete playgrounds. He tries to ignore how suffocating it is, how large Donghun’s hand would look against a child’s.

 

“You’d give them everything they want,” Junhee teases. “You can’t say no.”

 

“So our kids get spoiled,” Donghun mumbles, fond, playing with Junhee’s fingers against the soft material of his shirt. “So what? They know they're loved. I’d buy them everything for Christmas. You’d be the mean dad who gives them broccoli.”

 

Junhee snorts.

 

“It’s our wedding anniversary too, remember? How would that work?” 

 

Donghun stops to mull it over.

 

“We’d wake up early to open the presents. We’d bake, and watch movies, do Christmas stuff and… after that, we put the kids to bed, and it’s just us.”

 

He huffs at his own thought, and Junhee quirks an eyebrow.

 

“I forgot about our dog.”

 

“Our dog?” Junhee laughs, turning on his side to face Donghun.

 

“A big dog. A golden retriever. He licks everyone’s faces, good with the kids. Cuddles with us.” Donghun states, matter of fact.

 

It’s so easy to see, too easy. Christmas with Donghun and their kids and their dog. Donghun sitting on the floor in an old wool Christmas sweater with a present in between his hands, shaking it, trying to get their daughter to guess what was inside. If Junhee closes his eyes, he can hear their dog barking, their son screaming, Junhee complaining with his lips pursed on the cusp on a cup of wine. Easy. Too easy. Donghun is there, smiling up at him.

 

When he opens his eyes, it's the same. Donghun is still smiling at him, bright and toothy and bone deep tired all at once. Junhee wants to cry just looking at him.

 

“Donghun-“

 

“After the kids go to sleep, we’ll slow dance with wine to old love songs in the living room,” Donghun says, bringing Junhee’s hand up to lips, mumbling softly into his skin.

 

_ Don't think about it too much, _ Junhee tries to tell himself.  _ Don’t think about the dim lamps and the white fairy lights and Donghun’s raspy ballad voice. _

 

“Our dog would interrupt us.”

 

Pretending is easier, and the smile across Donghun’s face is too beautiful to deny.

 

“You’d dance with him. I’d take photos of you.”

 

“Am I that attractive?”

 

“No, you look like an idiot. That’s why I’m taking photos.”

 

The lighting is soft, low, makes Donghun look hazy and bronzed in it’s glow. Junhee reaches out, runs a finger over the curve of his cheekbone, smiling when Donghun closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

 

“Then we’d go to sleep,” Junhee whispers. “Our big bedroom with a memory foam mattress and a king sized bed.”

 

“I’d carry you up the stairs because you drank too much wine,” Donghun laughs. “Try to kiss you but you’re already asleep.”

 

“I’d be awake if-“

 

“They have all the time in the world, Junhee. I’ll make you boxing day pancakes and kiss you goodmorning.”

 

_ They _ . Not  _ we _ . That Donghun and Junhee are a lot different from this Donghun and Junhee. That couple don’t run off of sly kisses and sharing beds and making coffee for each other in the mornings. They don’t have to find time between to go out and eat ice cream together, don’t have to take time to breathe in between running for their dreams; let alone time to be alone together.

 

They go on dates and drink wine and have two kids and a dog and a house. They aren’t singers. 

 

It’s the one thing Junhee has never given up on since he was young. He needed it like he needed breathing. He could never give it up, never trade it for anything else.

 

Junhee feels like crying. 

 

But he doesn’t, just laughs and buries his head into Donghun’s chest and breathes in the smell of his soap and his clear cut aftershave and cologne. 

 

Donghun touches him, gentle, puts a hand on the back of his head with tangled fingers in the waves of his hair. He presses a kiss to the top of his head, keeps his lips there, and Junhee lets himself feel Donghun blink against his forehead.

 

“Are you crying?” 

 

“No.” Junhee says, firm, holding back a sniffle.

 

“Junhee,” Donghun says, low, pulls Junhee away from him, and scanning his features.

 

He tries to hide, but Donghun pulls his hands away with a laugh. He kisses both of his palms, thumbs away the buds of tears that flower along Junhee’s lashline.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I want-“

 

Donghun. He wants Donghun in more than just the gaps between schedules and at night and around thousands of constant judging eyes. He wants him and a Christmas wedding and a dog and two kids and old love songs playing crackly over a bad radio. 

 

“I want  _ you. _ To marry me.” 

 

Donghun chuckles a little, presses another kiss to Junhee’s palm before locking their fingers together.

 

“Are you proposing?”

 

“What if I am?”

 

Donghun seems to think for a minute. He looks over Junhee, gaze falling across his whole face before landing back on his eyes. He stares for a second, steady, expression perfectly neutral, eyes a little glassy and a little red. 

 

“Then I’d say yes,” Donghun says, features splitting into a smile. 

 

Donghun kisses Junhee again, and again, puts his hand on the side of Junhee’s face and leans their foreheads together. He’s smiling, soft, eyes closed, dark circles showing against washed out skin. 

 

He’s tired.  Junhee closes his eyes.

 

“In another life I’d buy you a ring.” He says.

 

“I don’t want another life,” Donghun mumbles, eyes still closed. “We have this one. I love you in this one.”

 

“Gross.”

 

He feels Donghun’s features ease into a smile. He shuffles closer to Junhee, bedsheets rustling, and kisses his forehead. Junhee could trace every line and curve etched into his skin with his eyes closed.

 

This life. Concert halls filled with people, smell of hairspray clogging changing rooms and broken voices. People waving and screaming at them, people loving them, giving their all to something they didn’t know. 

 

Donghun squeezes Junhee’s hand.

 

_ Donghun _ .

 

“I love you too.” Junhee whispers.

 

It’s Christmas. The snow is falling outside.

 

Junhee closes his eyes and lets himself drift, fingers linked between Donghun’s.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos n comments r greatly appreciated i love reading n replying hehe  
> if u wanna come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/4junhun) !  
> i hope u enjoyed it:D


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